


Running for a Soft Place to Fall

by jachiavellian



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Out of Character, Shameless Smut, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 15:23:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14108292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jachiavellian/pseuds/jachiavellian
Summary: Fletch has heard nothing from Jac since she waved goodbye to him in theatre on the day of Becky Colter's operation. Seven weeks later and she's finally ready to talk, but they have months of sexual tension to work through first.





	Running for a Soft Place to Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my flaclets xxx](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+flaclets+xxx).



> This is my first time writing smut and I've never had sex with a man so the heterosexuals out there are gonna have to correct me if I got it wrong. It's also a little out of character but I'm claiming dramatic license on that one. So basically I'm gifting y'all 5.5k of possibly awful flac content. Enjoy!

The door to Jac’s office swung open with such force that it slammed against the wall and bounced back, only narrowly missing the thoroughly pissed off Director of Nursing who had just stormed through it. He stopped short of the desk, bracing his hands against the edge and staring directly at the occupant of the chair.

“Seven weeks,” he growled.

The clinical lead had recovered from the initial shock of his entrance and was now struggling to mask the guilt that instinctively rose to her face with a feigned expression of indifference. She kept her gaze fixed resolutely on the paperwork she had been working on.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Fletcher, and I don’t appreciate the intrusion. Close the door on your way out.”

Fletch exhaled in a laugh of disbelief, stepping back and curling his hands into fists. “That’s not fair, Jac. No texts, no phone calls, nothing. For seven weeks. I had to ask Serena when you didn’t come back after four. I turned up at your house – Christ, I turned up at Jonny’s several times too, only to find that you’d dumped Emma there and left.” At the mention of her daughter, Jac’s eyes sparked with anger but she kept it firmly under control, pursing her lips as Fletch continued. “Now, I don’t know what the hell’s been going on with you for you to act like this, but I think you owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” she retaliated, flipping the page in front of her over as if she was able to concentrate through the wave of negative emotions warring within her brain.

“Look me in the eye and say that.” His voice broke as he issued the challenge. Jac closed her eyes and let out a controlled breath. Finally, she looked up and made eye contact with him for the first time in seven weeks.

“I don’t owe you anything,” she stated, voice firm, and watched as Fletch visibly deflated. There was a tense, drawn out pause before he spoke again, quietly this time.

“You know, after everything you and I have been through together, I thought you might have finally started to see me as a friend. More than a friend, maybe. You know how I felt about you.” She clenched her jaw at his use of the past tense and tightened her grip on the pen she was holding as he continued. “And I thought – _hoped_ – that you felt the same way. I was ready to talk to you, Jac. The day you left, I was prepared to lay my cards on the table and let you-“ he broke off as she stood up, drawing closer to his height and meeting his gaze directly, her nostrils flaring.

“I don’t have time to listen to your whining,” she said coolly, moving out from behind the desk and shouldering her way past him to get to the door.

Fletch gritted his teeth, swallowing hard before the provocative words he had been struggling to keep back leapt from his mouth in a cruel snarl. “Go on then, run away again. We’re all used to it by now.”

Jac stopped dead, her back rising and falling visibly with each breath. “It’s for the best,” she said at last, voice quivering with anger.

“Best for who? For me? Your patients? Jonny? Emma? You just upped and left your daughter for two months, and for what? Your own selfish-“

“Enough!” she whirled around and strode towards him until they were chest-to-chest. “You do not get to bring Emma into this and act like you’re god’s gift to parenthood. Don’t you think I’ve heard what you did to your wife?” A sadistic sense of satisfaction blossomed in her chest at the way his entire body tensed up at her words. “Four kids, and you were prepared to throw it all away for some past-her-best nurse. So don’t act like I’m the epitome of moral depravity when you couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to see the birth of your fourth ch-“ she was cut off as Fletch seized her shoulders with his hands, squeezing so hard she was certain she could feel the bruises forming.

“You don’t know the slightest thing about that part of my life,” he spat out, bringing his face close to hers. “Or how it feels to lose everyone you love. How could you? You barely know what love is.”

Jac felt blood rush to her head at his words, and brought her hands up to his chest to push him backwards, away from her, until his back hit the wall with a solid thump. For a few moments they just stared at each other, both breathing heavily from the built-up anger they had mutually incited. Fletch broke eye contact first, his gaze flickering downwards over her body as if he were seeing her properly for the first time in a while, which, Jac supposed ruefully, he was. Still trembling with adrenaline, he opened his mouth to speak but was cut short as she closed the gap between them once more, reached up to his neck with her hands, and tugged his face down to meet hers.

The first sense Fletch had as their lips connected was one of elation; he had waited for months to experience this, and the romantic optimism of his past-self rejoiced at the feeling of her body pressed against his, pushing him roughly against the wall. Then her lips parted and she sank her teeth into his bottom lip, pulling back slightly until it slipped free, and with a hiss of pain he was reminded of the heat of their ongoing argument.

“You accuse me of making assumptions about you and yet you do exactly the same thing to me,” she whispered, almost into his mouth as her eyes took in the reddening skin beneath his lower lip. “I’ve known love, Adrian.”

Fletch let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head. Without warning he grabbed her and spun them around so that her back was against the wall and he was trapping her there, an arm either side of her head. Bowing his head and letting his face fall against her exposed neck, he whispered his next words bitterly into her skin. “I wish I believed you, Ms. Naylor.”

Any reply she might have given was cut off by a sharp intake of breath as his hot lips pressed against the sensitive hollow above her right collarbone. A moment later and they were replaced by his teeth, then he drew back as she had done to observe the blossom of red he had left behind on her pale skin. Jac swallowed back a whimper as arousal pooled in her abdomen and fisted her hands in the front of his shirt to pull him back for another bruising kiss. It lasted longer this time; her hands wandered up to his neck again to scrape her nails at the base of his skull, drawing a groan from him. At the same time his fingers sought the hem of her scrub top and tugged it upwards so that he had access to the soft skin at her waist. Jac gasped into his mouth as he suddenly gripped her hips and pulled her closer, bringing her into direct contact with the hardness at the front of his trousers.

“Is this what you did to Tess Bateman?” she breathed, the slope of her cheekbone brushing the prickly hair at his jaw. “Did you fuck her in her office too?” Fletch growled and pushed one of his legs forwards so that it slipped with some pressure between her own, the top of his thigh pushing up against her pelvis. Jac buried her face in his neck as a new wave of desire flooded through her.

“Shut up.”

She smiled impishly into his skin, nipping it and feeling his tendons tense beneath her lips. “Make me.”

He complied by locating her ponytail with one hand and twisting his fingers in it, pulling down so that her face was brought up to his once more and he could claim her lips with his own. The ferocity of the kiss was bruising and Jac found herself pressing her hips forwards against the thigh he had wedged between her legs, grinding against him in a rhythm that matched the rough movement of their lips. Desperate now to touch him properly, she slipped her hands from the back of his neck, locating his tie and fumbling blindly to undo it. Moments later it slipped from beneath his collar and fell to the floor and she started work on his shirt buttons. Her actions were halted briefly as he found the hem of her scrub top again and lifted it further this time, tearing his lips from hers momentarily as it came up and over her head. Her vest top soon followed until the pale skin of her upper body was exposed to him, only the black satin of her bra remaining to cover her breasts. Jac watched as he moved backwards slightly and took the sight of her in, the anger in his eyes replaced with a sort of breathless awe. Feeling fairly pleased at the reaction she had elicited from him, she arched her back from the wall so that she could reach behind herself to unclasp the bra.

“I’m not going to run this time,” she told him, her voice almost soft as the satin scrap of clothing fell away and Fletch still made no move to touch her. He looked suddenly scared, as if the weight of what they had done, what they were about to do if she had her way, had finally sunk in. His wide eyes met hers.

“Jac…” he began hoarsely, but she shook her head and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Her naked breasts brushed gently against his half-bare chest as she did so, and he reached up tentatively to cup one, running his thumb over its peak and feeling it harden beneath him.

“There’ll be time to talk later,” she whispered, hands returning to his shirt buttons to finish what she had started. When she had finished with the buttons, she slid the material from his shoulders and placed her hands against his chest. “Just let go, Fletch.”

He swallowed at her soft command. Then, with a single nod, he brought his hands to her small wrists where they rested against his chest and wrapped his fingers around them, drawing them away from him and pinning them to the wall either side of her body. Jac watched, her breathing rapid and shallow, as he lowered his head to kiss his way down her sternum, his teeth scraping lightly across her sensitive skin and raising goose bumps across her chest. He changed direction then and focused his attentions on her right breast. A sigh escaped her lips as his mouth closed around her nipple, tongue flicking over it lightly before he released it with a soft pop and moved across to the other.

“Never do anything like that to me again,” he said in a low voice, words muffled by the skin he was peppering with open-mouthed kisses. Jac rubbed her thighs together impatiently as the words he spoke breathed warm air over the damp path his lips had left across her chest. His fingers tightened around her wrists. “Promise me, Jac. I can’t lose you.”

She twisted her hands free from his grasp and reached down to cup his face, a sad smile playing on her lips. “I can’t keep promises, Fletch. You know that perfectly well.” He frowned at her words, straightening up. Desperate to keep him near her, she stepped towards him so that their bodies were pressed together again as she continued. “But I am ready to talk to you now. To… lay my cards on the table, if that’s what you want.”

He studied her intently for a few moments, holding her unfamiliarly open gaze with his own. Finally, he nodded. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

 Jac laughed, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “Well then,” she murmured, gaze dropping to his lips. “We’d better get on with it.”

“Is that an order?” Fletch asked, a smile playing on his lips as he leaned in closer to her.

She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat and, by way of answering his question, rose up onto her toes to bring their faces together. He closed the gap and groaned when she once again tugged at his lower lip with her teeth, a punishment for his teasing. Pulling back until his lip was free, he gripped her hips and walked her backwards towards the wall of the office until her back hit it with a soft thump.

“People always said your bite is just as bad as your bark,” he said with a smirk.

“What are you going to do about it, Fletcher?” She delivered the challenge boldly, but her legs almost buckled at the intensity of the stare he used to sweep over her body, and her breath hitched as his thumbs found their way beneath the waistband of her scrub pants. He looked up to silently request permission to continue and she gave him a quick nod, fumbling to slip her feet from her trainers and kick them out of the way before he slowly pushed the pants over her hips. They pooled to the ground at her feet and she stepped out of them.

Noticing their respective states of undress, Jac reached out to undo his belt, but Fletch shook his head. “Not yet,” he said firmly, batting her hands away and then dropping to his knees before her. She exhaled slowly as he placed a kiss against her stomach, gaze flickering quickly over the still-new scar that joined the host of older white marks there. It was something to talk about later, he told himself, ghosting his lips over it briefly and then bracing his hands either side of her waist in order to trail a few more kisses down over her abdomen. He paused once he reached the hem of her underwear, but before he had time to look up to make sure she was comfortable with him removing the last barrier of clothing between them, she was pushing them down herself.

Fletch could smell her arousal, and it sent a rush of blood straight to his groin. He stifled a moan and slid his hands down from Jac’s waist to the back of her legs, pressing a kiss to the soft skin on the inside of her thigh. Jac let out a small whimper as his stubble prickled the sensitive area, and twisted her fingers through his short hair to encourage him to continue. He smiled against her body and sealed his mouth to it again, at the same time moving one hand to cup her and slide a finger between her folds; Jac squirmed as he brushed against her clit, and he repeated the movement, applying a little more pressure until she began to tremble against him. She moved a hand to cover his and keep it in place whilst she tugged him up to kiss him fiercely.

Dizzy with the force of his own desire, he reached down to grip the back of her thigh and lifted it until her leg was hooked around his hip. Jac cried out at the new, intense sensations that accompanied the change in angle and dug the nails of her free hand into his shoulder, so hard he wondered if she’d drawn blood; seconds later he felt her tense and pulsate against his fingers before her entire body sagged against him and her head dropped against his shoulder.

For a few moments the silence of the room was filled only by the sound of their combined breathing. Then Fletch shifted, gently releasing her leg and wrapping his arms around her back to support her weight as he tugged her away from the wall and towards his bare torso. She hummed contentedly against his skin and wove her own arms around his waist before mumbling a vague “thank you”.

Fletch laughed and rested his head against the top of hers. “Anytime,” he murmured against her hair. Then he jumped as a sudden pressure was applied to the front of his trousers; Jac’s hand had wandered downwards to stroke him gently through the material. She looked up, a wicked smile curving her lips.

“Your turn.”

It took his brain a few seconds to process what was happening, and when it finally caught up Jac had dropped to her knees before him and was teasing at his belt with her skilled fingers. Exhaling slowly, he reached down to grasp her ponytail, then worked the hair elastic free just as she tugged his pants down over his hips. Hair spilled free over her shoulders, parting naturally to one side as she had been wearing it in the weeks before she’d left. He liked it like that; it made her look softer, somehow.

Jac had made quick work of his shoelaces so that he could step free of his shoes and trousers, leaving him finally just in his boxers before her. He watched as she sat back, gaze fixed upon his very physical and very obvious evidence of desire for her.

“Turn around,” she commanded quietly. Frowning, he could only comply, eyes widening as he felt her hands wander over his arse, squeezing him experimentally through the fabric of his boxers. He was momentarily caught off guard, until a memory struck him and his lips curved into a smug smile.

“Buns to die for, right?” he teased, glancing over his shoulder to watch as a pleasant flush settled across her cheeks. “I knew you were jealous of Becky.”

“What do I have to be jealous of?” She asked slyly, and he suddenly felt the heat of her mouth replace that of her hands as she placed hot, open-mouthed kisses over the fabric. They trailed upwards, past the waistband of the boxers so that he felt her next words vibrate against the skin of his lower back. “Becky Colter doesn’t get to do this.”

“You’re killing me, Naylor,” he groaned, to which she just laughed, her fingers slipping beneath his waistband and slowly tugging the boxers down over his glutes.

“Luckily for you I have just the cure for that,” she said in a low voice, and rose to her feet. Fletch’s heartrate picked up as she appeared in his peripheral and continued until she was stood facing him directly, her gaze fixed downwards at the part of his anatomy that had been concealed from her until now. He recognised the look in her eyes, and struggled to place it until she reached down and wrapped her fingers around him delicately; it was the same expression she wore in theatre when presented with a particularly complex or interesting case. His hips bucked involuntarily at the slight touch and he inhaled with a sharp hiss.

“Christ, Jac.”

She grinned, stifling his words as she leant forwards to claim his lips with her own. He moaned into her mouth as she began to move her hand around him, her thumb going immediately to a particularly sensitive spot on the underside and massaging it gently. They kissed like that for a minute or so, Fletch’s hands exploring her body and Jac settling into a dizzying rhythm as she stroked him. Just as he was sure he couldn’t last much longer, she pulled back, and he made a small noise of complaint until she took his hands and began to direct him slowly across the office floor, stepping carefully over their discarded clothes. As they approached the far wall something made contact with the back of his knees, and he found himself falling onto the seat of the sofa. This was the sofa on which he had reached out to her during the strike on electives, and on which they had shared a pizza and talked about visiting the zoo. How many evenings had he spent there with her, sharing anecdotes about the kids or listening to her vent about his staff? She looked up and met his gaze, one side of her mouth twitching in a small smile. The atmosphere was suddenly still again. Then, Jac took a step closer and lifted one knee, placing it on the seat beside his thigh and raising the other one so that she was straddling him and the throbbing evidence of his desire for her was pressed against her abdomen.

Fletch’s hands drifted up her things and settled at her waist, and he leaned forwards to pepper small kisses along the line of her jaw and down her neck. Jac’s eyes fluttered shut; she arched into his touch, allowing him to continue for a few moments before she grew impatient and placed her hands flat against his chest to push him gently back so that his body made contact with the back of the sofa. She shot him an impish smile, and then reached down to take him in her hand again, rising up onto her knees so that she was positioned directly above him. 

“W-wait, Jac,” he tightened his fingers around her waist, holding her in place as she tilted her head in a silent question. He exhaled slowly, forcing his hips to remain still despite every instinct screaming for him to push up into her. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Jac shook her head and sat back down on his legs, a mixture of disbelief and amusement playing across her face. “Seriously? Okay, I hereby give you my explicit consent for us to have sex now, and for you to touch me however you want.” She placed her free hand over one of his, moving it up to cover her breast. “Is that good enough for you?”

He smiled apologetically, thumb sweeping across the slight impression remaining from the underwire of her discarded bra. “Yeah, sorry. I ruined the moment a bit, didn’t I?”

She returned his smile and reached out to cup his cheek, capturing his lips in a brief kiss. “Never change, Fletch.” A thought occurred to her then, and she pulled back. “Are _you_ okay with this?”

Fletch laughed softly. With the hand he still had resting just above her hip, he pulled her forwards in his lap so that his erection was once again pressed against her abdomen and watched as her eyes darkened with desire. “Does that answer your question?”

“I’d say that just about covers it,” she said, voice husky as she rose up onto her knees again, one hand grabbing the back of the sofa behind him for support whilst she used the other to guide his swollen length to where she needed him so desperately to be.

Fletch groaned as she directed his tip between her wet folds and began to sink down onto him. She halted halfway down, however, and exhaled slowly, face contorting slightly in pain.

“Jac? Are you alright?” He tensed, ready to pull out if she needed him to, but she placed a hand on his chest to stop him and nodded.

“Yeah, it’s just been a while,” she reassured him, trying to relax around him as she waited for her body to adjust to the sensation of him inside her. Fletch mentally kicked himself; of course she was hurting, she’d only just about recovered from being shot and nearly dying. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, strangely emotional as his gaze roamed her face.

“We can stop if you-“ he was cut off by a dizzying wave of pleasure as Jac glared at him and suddenly rolled her hips forwards, taking the rest of him inside her.

“We’re not stopping,” she almost growled, and rested her forehead against his so that her hair fell about his face like a copper curtain. “Suggest it again and I swear to God-“ Her words were lost in a gasp as Fletch shifted his hips forward, burying himself deeper inside her.

“Are you threatening me, Naylor?” he teased, nudging her nose with his own.

“What would you do if I was?” She was rising up again as she spoke, the breathy question ghosting across his face and causing goose bumps to break out across his torso. Fletch was momentarily rendered immobile at the sight of her, raised above him with her long hair brushing the tops of his shoulders and her feline eyes fixed on his, until he managed to recover himself and tightened his grip around her waist to draw her back down onto him. Jac squeezed her eyes shut, the initial pain of the movement giving way to pleasure.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out,” he said suggestively, tweaking one of her nipples with a little more force than he had used before and eliciting a gasp from her.

“Fletch,” she whimpered, pushing her hips forwards and wrapping her arms around his neck in an attempt to press herself closer to him as she blindly sought out his mouth with her own. His hands went to cup her bum as their chests made contact and he held her there for a moment, relishing the sensation of being so close to her, before she slid her petite hands down to his chest and began to move again.

They struck up a steady rhythm, the relative silence of the room punctuated only by their occasional sighs as each of them worked towards climax. Fletch could feel pressure building in his groin and latched his mouth to the sensitive skin of neck, making a satisfied noise in the back of his throat when she swept her hair to one side and tilted her face upwards to give him better access. She braced her hands on his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there as she rolled against him at a faster page and he began thrusting his hips up to meet her.

Jac was getting close; a breathy moan was escaping her lips with every thrust, and the combined sensations of his progressively more desperate movements inside her alongside the lazy nips he was giving to her neck were beginning to push her over the edge. Sensing this, Fletch reached down between their bodies to where they were joined, locating the small bundle of nerves above her entrance and rubbing it with his thumb. The action sent a jolt of intense pleasure up her body and she arched her back, letting out a soft cry as her muscles contracted involuntarily around him. Fletch clenched his jaw as his lower body tightened.

“Jac, I’m going to-“ he began to warn her, but she just nodded and silenced him with a kiss as she ground her hips against him, a shudder passing through her body at the almost painful sensation the continued stimulation brought with it. Fletch could feel the pulsing aftershocks of her climax squeezing him and, unable to hold back any longer, thrust upwards and released himself into her with a low, guttural cry of relief. He clutched her to him for the duration of his orgasm, breathing heavily into her shoulder a few times before his muscles relaxed and he collapsed backwards against the sofa, spent. Jac rose up onto her knees, allowing him to slide out of her, and sank into the cushions at his side. Her head dropped onto his shoulder, sending red locks tumbling over his skin and tickling his chest and he smiled breathlessly, tracing delicate, indistinct patterns along the line of her leg with his fingers.

“I’m sorry I shut you out,” she said softly after a while, her own fingers stroking the skin of his stomach. “And about the things I said before. I was afraid.”

“I know,” he murmured, voice equally soft. He pressed a kiss to her hairline before continuing. “Me too. And for the record, I don’t really think you’re incapable of love. I know you love Sacha, and Zosia, and Ollie, even Frieda. I know you loved your sister.”

Jac let out a shaky breath, his admission sending a rush of warmth to her chest. Three words teased at the tip of her tongue but there was still far too much to talk about before she could utter them with any confidence, so she swallowed them back and they lapsed into silence once more.

“We, uh, we didn’t use any protection,” he said suddenly, and the tension in the room broke as Jac laughed.

“It’s okay. My endo flared up since the shooting and I’ve been on birth control to suppress it. And I’m clean, if you were worried about that.”

“Same,” he said, smiling to himself as the sheer ridiculousness of the situation sunk in. He was holding a naked Jac Naylor, the infamous Ice Queen of Holby, on the sofa of her office in broad daylight, and they had just had sex. The muted sounds of Darwin ward swam into focus from outside and it occurred to him that they hadn’t even locked the door. “What are we doing, Jac? Can you imagine if Frieda had walked in on us?”

“Having regrets already, Mr Fletcher?” she teased. Mindful of his sudden realisation however, she extracted her leg from across his thighs and stood up to collect his clothes from the floor to throw them to him.

“You know I’m not,” he said with a wolfish grin, appreciating the view as she stooped to pick up her own clothes. His smugness intensified as he got a glimpse of her neck, which was covered in deep red bruises from where his lips and teeth had assaulted it. She caught him staring and, suddenly shy, straightened up, holding the scrubs in front of her to shield her body from his stare.

“What?”

“Am I not allowed to admire the woman I just slept with?” he responded, standing to climb into his trousers.

“Technically there was no sleeping involved,” came the breezy retort. Fletch laughed as he buckled his belt, watching her tug her scrub pants over her hips.

“Not this time,” his voice caught on the final word as he realised what he’d just said and glanced up to meet her gaze, flustered. “Uh, I mean, if you want there to be another time-“

Jac smiled, crossing the room and silencing him by placing her fingers against his lips. “I do,” she said firmly. “But we need to talk first.” Fletch nodded.

“Tonight?” he suggested. She nodded back.

“Emma’s with Jonny until Sunday so I’m all yours.”

His chest swelled at her words and he pulled her in for a slow kiss. She hummed contentedly against his lips before pushing him away gently and slipping her scrub top over her head, a pretty blush settling across the contour of her cheekbones.

“Get dressed, Fletcher. I’ve got seven weeks of paperwork to catch up on before I can get anywhere near my patients.”

Fletch raised his arm in a mocking salute. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and Jac watched him retreat to the other side of the room to shrug his shirt back on, a satisfied smile playing across her lips once she noticed the lines her nails had left down his shoulders and back. She wasn’t sure that having sex with Fletch before they’d had the chance to talk through the events of the past two months was the most sensible idea, and some of the things she had said to him before about Tess and his wife were going to take some apologising for, but then he glanced at her over his shoulder and there was such warmth in his eyes that her worries faded almost completely. Fletch was the most empathetic person she knew, with the exception of maybe Sacha, and had the patience of a saint; she was confident that this was a blip they could work through.

As she was gathering her thoughts Fletch had slipped his shoes and tie back on and was almost, save for a few suspicious blemishes on his neck, presentable. He cleared his throat and she returned her attention to him. “Will I do?”

Jac snorted. “The entire hospital will know by tomorrow morning.”

“And you’re okay with that?” he asked tentatively.

She frowned; when she had started a relationship with Matteo the previous year the possibility of idle gossip had terrified her, and yet the idea of them knowing about her and Fletch was a strangely liberating one. They had resisted each other for such a long time, and she had changed a lot as a person in the past twelve months too. She was ready to stop fighting. Meeting his gaze again, she smiled.

“Let them talk.”


End file.
